by Greg Baughen
At dawn on 12 June, nine Battles bombed roads in the Les Andelys region without loss. In the afternoon, twelve more attacked convoys near Le Manoir railway bridge, scattering German engineers attempting to repair it. Again, there were no losses. Another attempt to attack pontoon bridges south of Les Andelys was less successful, with poor visibility causing crews to doubt if any of their bombs had hit the target. A French fighter escort protected a raid by another twelve Battles against pontoons south of Compiègne, where German forces were now bearing down on Paris. One Battle was lost and another badly damaged but these were the only losses that day. Another Battle was lost during the night when fifteen Battles attempted to bomb roads leading to Les Andelys, but poor weather prevented all but seven from reaching the target area.17
On 13 June, a dawn armed reconnaissance mission by six Battles patrolled the Vernon-Evreux region. Poor weather prevented any fighters protecting the mission and made it difficult to spot any targets, but also helped shield the Battles and all returned. Two later missions flown by Nos. 150 and 142 Squadrons were not so fortunate. The weather was so bad that two of the twelve Battles aborted the mission, and only five managed to find the target. The weather again appears to have prevented any fighters operating with the bombers, but this time it did not provide the Battles with any protection, and four Battles were lost after both squadrons ran into Bf 109s.18 It was a salutary reminder of the dangers of operating without an escort.
In the afternoon, attention switched to targets east of Paris. The line along the Aisne was crumbling and a general retreat underway as the French attempted to re-establish a new defensive position along the Marne. Unfortunately for the French, some of the Panzers were overtaking the retreating French troops. Two neighbouring French Armies had lost touch with each other and powerful German forces were pouring through the gap, sweeping past Montmirail and on towards the lower Seine. At 3.00 p.m. on the 13th, twelve Battles delivered attacks on convoys a few miles south of Montmirail, with one plane failing to return. The concentration of tanks and vehicles was so large and the danger so great, caution was thrown to the wind and all available Battles launched a repeat attack. Twenty-six took off, but it seems AASF fighters were still grounded by the weather. French fighters were supposed to be in the area providing some protection for the Battles, but they were fully occupied defending their own bombers. The Battles ran into a large number of enemy fighters and some intense anti-aircraft fire. Six Battles were lost, at least four at the hands of enemy fighters.19 Paris was now threatened from north and south, and on the 13th the capital was declared an open city. With the capital abandoned, the end of French resistance seemed imminent. Preparations for an evacuation of the BAFF were already underway, but the Battle squadrons continued flying operations, although, it would seem, without any fighter escort. On 14 June, fighter operations were still restricted by the poor weather, and attempts to provide escorts were further handicapped by a disorganised attempt by the fighter squadrons to retreat to new airfields. Ten Battles tried to bomb German columns in the Evreux area but bad weather foiled the attack. A further two Battles on an armed reconnaissance spotted a couple of German fighters on Le Coudray airfield, just south of Paris, a particularly disturbing discovery as the airfield had only just been evacuated. In the afternoon nine Battles set out to attack woods south of Evreux and Le Coudray aerodrome, where two out of the three from No. 12 Squadron were shot down. Another attempt was made in the evening, with twelve Battles bombing enemy transport around Evreux, but the Messerschmitts accounted for two more Battles.
That evening, instructions came through to fly back to Britain. Squadrons bombed up all their serviceable planes for one final dawn attack. Ten Battles from No. 150 set off to attack enemy forces in the Evreux region, with a Hurricane escort, and then set course for Nantes and the first leg of their journey home. The other surviving squadrons flew a dozen sorties before joining them in retreat. In all, around sixty Battles made it back to Britain.
A wartime study by the Air Ministry estimated that from 5–15 June the Battles had flown 264 sorties by day and lost 23 planes, a loss rate of 9 per cent.20 Many squadron records were lost during the retreat so accurate figures are difficult to assemble, and the number of sorties flown and the losses are both probably underestimates. The loss rate is probably broadly correct, and a significant improvement when compared to the 50 per cent loss rate in the first five days of the campaign. However, even 9 per cent was too high. The most successful Allied bomber during the campaign had been the American Martin 167 Maryland that the French Air Force was using, with a loss rate of 4 per cent. The Blenheim had an overall loss rate of 7 per cent for the campaign but from 20 May, when Blenheims began getting a close escort, it was just 5 per cent. Getting better results from the Battle was very much an ongoing process, but the loss rate was going in the right direction.
For ten days, until the German advance forced the AASF to retreat to Britain, the Battle was able to maintain daylight operations. In the same period, the Blenheims of No. 2 Group had flown 473 and the French Air Force 619 daylight bombing sorties. The Battles had therefore flown around one fifth of all Allied day bombing sorties. It was unfortunate that the majority had been flown when the situation had already deteriorated considerably, and therefore the course of events was more difficult to influence. Nevertheless, it was a highly creditable performance from just six squadrons.
Many lessons had been learned. The vulnerability of the liquid-cooled Merlin to ground fire had not attracted much attention before the offensive, but it should have been clear by this point that the engine also needed some extra protection. The value of the self-sealing tanks was now beyond all doubt, and the additional armour that had been agreed but never fitted would have been very useful. RAF commanders had rather reluctantly accepted that day bombers needed close escorts. Attempting to defeat the enemy fighter force and create general air superiority was far too ambitious an aim. Fighters had to concentrate on ensuring the bombers and reconnaissance planes could carry out their mission, and achieving local air superiority, even if only temporarily, was a much more attainable goal.20 The importance of appropriate targeting was perhaps not attracting enough attention. Battles could not be used deep inside enemy air space; they had to be used close to the front line so that safety was never too far away. Even if the plane was shot down, there was a reasonable chance that the crew would survive to fight another day. If the lessons learned could be applied, there was no reason why the Battle could not become a very effective army support bomber.
A few days after the Battle squadrons left France, the French government surrendered. In two months, Britain’s position had gone from being reasonably secure to the brink of defeat. Britain was on her own and facing the prospect of a German invasion. The country would need to make best use of every resource at its disposal if it was to stand any chance of defeating an invading German Army. One of those resources was the Fairey Battle. The plane’s finest hour might still be to come.
6
A Wasted Resource
Late in June, the battered squadrons of the AASF returned to Britain. Aircrews were immediately sent home on leave for a much-needed rest. For RAF commanders, this was an opportunity to step back from the confusion and stress of a fiercely fought campaign. Much should have been done with the Battle before the May/June campaign, but it had never been reasonable to expect the deficiencies to be put right in the middle of an ongoing, desperate struggle. Now, however, there was time to reflect and time to do something about the Battle’s vulnerability.
How the Battle should be improved would depend to some extent on how the bomber would be used. Would fighter escorts be available? If so, perhaps low-level dive-bombing tactics might be the best option but if not, and the plane had to operate at low level without an escort, then it had to be properly armoured. Whichever approach was chosen, self-sealing tanks were essential. Also, although the Battle could never rely entirely on defensive firepower, more guns would b
e useful. The Blenheim, Lysander, and Hampden were all having their dorsal armament increased to two machine guns, so there was no reason why the Battle could not be similarly modified. It was not too late to add a proper ventral gun position. Alternatively, the plane could be flown as a two-seater, as No. 103 squadron were already doing, enabling bomb aiming equipment to be dispensed with. Either way, if the plane was to operate by day, there was no need to weigh it down with night flying equipment. There were also decisions to make about the type of bombs the Battle should use, and whether its ground-strafing capability should be improved.
Time was short—an invasion might come any day—but many of these improvements were already in hand. Schemes for improving the armour protection had been worked out and approved, and the armour had been manufactured. The Battle was already scheduled to get self-sealing tanks and trials with the Semape self-sealing tank had been successfully completed. The bomb bays had been modified to carry 40-lb anti-personnel bombs. Extra fixed guns had not been trialled, but Battle variants with guns for ground strafing had been proposed and no-one thought there would be any problems adding them. No-one knew if Britain had days, weeks, or months, but there was time to apply at least some of these modifications. There was every reason to suppose the Battle could do better than it had done in the second half of the French campaign. The plane could still become the effective close-support aircraft the Army was demanding. It was certainly needed. The remnants of the British Army were desperately short of the firepower defeating an invasion would require.
While the aircrews were on leave, the Air Ministry set about deciding what to do with them when they returned. It was not the straightforward issue it might seem. Helping the Army defeat an invasion seemed to be the obvious priority, and using the Battles as they had been used in France seemed an obvious role, but the tactical BAFF no longer existed. The Battle squadrons were no longer part of the AASF; on returning to Britain, they became No. 1 Group again and were once more under the control of Portal’s Bomber Command. Portal had made it very clear that he did not want any of his bombers wasted on Army support.
Nevertheless, in the circumstances Britain found herself in, it seemed unthinkable not to use every available resource to defend Britain’s shores. Times were desperate. A million had answered the call to join the Home Guard, and the public had been asked to hand in any firearms so that they might have more than pikes to fend off the invaders. The Army had left nearly all its heavy weapons behind at Dunkirk and had little more than the rifles the 200,000 rescued troops had brought back with them. Factories were working around the clock to replace what had been lost and the Americans were rushing everything they could spare across the Atlantic. However, the Army was going to lack fire power for some time to come and it would need all the help it could get from the RAF.
The War Office was in no doubt about how it should help. They did not need a crisis to justify more air support. Long before the German offensive against France, the War Office had been convinced that even an army with its full complement of artillery and other heavy weapons needed air support as well. The superbly equipped German Army had still benefitted enormously from the fearsome Ju 87 Stuka; British troops had been traumatised by the incessant dive-bombing. The British Army had to have something similar. The desperate shortage of equipment merely increased the need for air support, and desperate measures were already being taken to provide it. Tiger Moth trainers were being fitted with bomb racks and instructors were preparing to fly them against the German beachheads. In the circumstances, the battle-hardened veterans of the ex-AASF seemed like a priceless asset.
The pressure from the War Office was intense. Throughout the summer of 1940, Anthony Eden, the Secretary of State for War, bombarded his counterpart in the Air Ministry, Archibald Sinclair, with demands that the Air Ministry make sure that the RAF had the ability to provide the Army with as much support as possible. Early in September, with invasion barges gathering on the far side of the Channel, Sinclair wearily insisted he had got the message. In response to yet another demand for action, he reassured Eden:
As regards close support bombers, I assure you there is no need for you to insist on the importance of adequate air support for any army taking the field. I and my advisers are keenly aware of it.1
The Air Ministry was very ‘keenly aware’ of the pressure the War Office was applying. They were not so keenly aware of the justification for air support, but what the Air Staff really thought did not seem to count for much in the desperate summer of 1940. The sheer gravity of the situation was forcing the Air Ministry in a direction it did not really want to go. With an invasion looming and the Air Ministry facing scathing criticism for the lack of air support for the BEF in France, they seemed to have little choice but to give the Army what it wanted. The Army case was so strong, the Air Ministry genuinely feared, that if they did not concede some ground, the War Office might get its way and solve the problem by having its own air arm. For the Air Staff, this was a bigger concern than any German invasion.2
Portal, however, seemed completely unconcerned by the furore that was engulfing the Air Ministry. For the Bomber Command chief, what should become of the Battle squadrons was obvious. He wanted them all immediately disbanded and the aircrews used to reinforce other squadrons in Bomber Command so that he could step up his offensive against German industry.3 Portal, and indeed Newall and the rest of the Air Staff, genuinely believed this offensive was already driving Germany to defeat. There was no inkling of how far this was from the truth. No-one suspected that nearly all of the bombs Bomber Command was dropping were missing their targets by huge distances. Many were not even hitting the city the target was in.
The threat of imminent invasion was not going to change Portal’s mind. He remained convinced tactical bombing was a complete waste of time, resources and lives. He still saw no point in using his bombers to delay the odd German column by an hour or two when they could be used to wipe out German industry and cripple the entire German Army instead. Put like this, it is easy to understand why Portal wanted to disband the Battle squadrons and throw everything into his nocturnal strategic air offensive. The more crews he could use against German industry, the quicker he believed victory would come. The Air Staff agreed, but whether they dared insist on this strategy in the desperate situation Britain found herself in was another matter
Portal did not get his way, and the Battle squadrons were not disbanded. Not all the reasons were tactical; some argued that it would be demoralizing for the aircrews if squadron traditions were lost. Douglas, however, also pointed out that, if the Germans invaded, ‘a close support force of maximum size’ would be needed, and the Battles helped provide this.4 It would not be the only occasion on which Douglas came to the defence of the Battle squadrons in the weeks ahead. When Dowding argued that pilots were wasted flying Battles and wanted them retrained as fighter pilots, Douglas begged to differ, saying that the Battles ‘were a good type to attack troops as they land’.5 The Battle force remained in existence, and the Army even won back a degree of control over these squadrons. If the Germans invaded, half of the medium bomber squadrons (the Battles of No. 1 Group and Blenheims of No. 2 Group) would be available to the Army, just as they had been in France. Indeed, if communications broke down and it was not possible to contact Bomber Command, then the Army could have control of the entire medium bomber force. Portal might not like it, but the idea was to use his Battles and Blenheims for army support.
With the need for a tactical bomber force apparently established, the next question was whether there was anything better than the Battle to equip it. Douglas wanted to replace the Battles with the American twin-engined Martin Marylands and Douglas Bostons that were just beginning to arrive. These were excellent tactical light bombers and a big improvement on the Blenheim but, like the Blenheim, they were too large for steep dive-bombing or the low-level assault role. The Army wanted twin-engined bombers like the Blenheim, Maryland, and Boston but they also nee
ded a much smaller, single-engined bomber. The success of the Ju 87 in the French campaign had only reinforced this belief. The plane they wanted had to be small, manoeuvrable, and armoured, with fixed forward-firing guns for ground strafing, and a dive-bombing capability.
The Air Ministry again warned the War Office that, if they were starting from scratch, such a plane could not reach the squadrons until 1942. Lord Beaverbrook, the Canadian-born press baron Churchill had brought in to beef up war production, ordered hundreds of Vultee Vengeance and Brewster Bermuda dive-bombers from the United States, but these could not arrive until 1941. The Army needed something in 1940. The War Office saw no reason why the Hawker Henley could not be put back into production in its original light bomber form. It was much faster and more manoeuvrable than the Battle and precisely what they wanted, but somehow, Beaverbrook seems to have been convinced that this was quite impossible. ‘The jigs and tools are no longer set up. In fact it is a memory of the past and of no practical value for the present’, he insisted, which seemed a little harsh for a plane that the Gloster plant had only recently stopped building.6 However, not even the Henley would have been an instant solution. Two hundred were in training schools, and it probably was possible to convert them back to bombers, but even with an immediate decision, no more could be built in time to deal with a 1940 invasion.7
The Fairey Fulmar was another suggestion. This was a naval fighter version of Fairey’s own P.4/34 light-bomber, which in turn was a scaled down version of the Battle. It could still carry its original 500-lb bomb load and, with eight machine guns, had an excellent ground strafing capability. However, the first had only just come off the production lines and at the beginning of July, only nineteen had been delivered. It would also not be easy to persuade the Admiralty to hand over their latest fighter.8